


For Love

by DuaeCat



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 14:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3253709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuaeCat/pseuds/DuaeCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion piece to AriesOnMars' Ardor. Mira Bridger and the things she does for love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Love

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ardor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3228383) by [AriesOnMars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriesOnMars/pseuds/AriesOnMars). 



They had come for her as a small child, she thought she could even remember it. The mind was deceptive, she knew far too well, a cowardly thing afraid to admit its own imperfections and flaws. Tell someone something often enough and it became its own sort of truth, lie to someone about a trip to the playground convincingly enough and they’d swear they remember how blood mingled with dirt when they skinned their knee.   
  
It could have been such an illusion, born of her own mind thinking of the moment over and over again through the years, but it was such a little thing. The strange people had shown up at their door and her parents had played gracious hosts, she was far too young to realize they were terrified. The strangers had spoken kindly to her, gave her toys to play with, but the strangest thing to a child was how they shone so much brighter than anyone. It was nearly blinding and yet she couldn’t seem to look away. She remembered her father raising his voice suddenly, and then the strangers left.   
  
At four, no matter how powerful, Mira was no longer as suitable for admittance to the Jedi Temple. The objection of parents who feared the loss of their only child carried more weight, and out of love they kept her close. When she was old enough to understand she very nearly hated them for it.   
  
At eight she was dressed in clothing that was too fine and too restricting, taken in front of the altar and pledged to Ephraim Bridger. She was told she would love him someday. He was three years older than her, looked bored, and when she tried to take his hand he pulled it away.  
  
That night she had tried to run away again to join the Jedi, a head full of wild stories of how they would be impressed with her courage and her talent and welcome her with open arms. She was stronger, faster, far more clever than anyone else her age, and it did her no good. When the Republic’s peace keepers returned her home she had been scolded. Why had she worried her parents, didn’t she know how much they loved her? She knew too well.   
  
She hadn’t forgiven them until years later. Married to a man she’d become fond of enough in time, she thought she was dying. Pain that the medical droid’s injections couldn’t soothe wracked her body as light after light went out, blazing through her mind and leaving only darkness behind. The Jedi had turned traitor, she’d been told. She’s known better. Had her parents not kept her close she would have been one of those lights to flare and die. Instead she thought of herself as a banked ember, she endured. Ezra was as bright as any of the lights she’d sensed, and she’d set the universe aflame before she let him flicker out. She loved him long before she ever held him in her arms.   
  
 He had grown up strong, every bit as clever, as lucky, as talented as she had been. Praise that had cut her to the core she lavished on him, and none of it empty flattery. Where her own had been a reminder of what she’d lost, his was hope for the future. Leaving him behind nearly killed her, but she did it out of love.   
  
This would be no different. Ardor stood steadily as the bacta drained. Her form had never been strong enough, letting her down again and again. One more scar would hardly matter, nor would the cybernetic implants in her chest replacing the tissue destroyed by her son’s lightsaber. Her son… Her lips twitched in a smile as the tank opened, and her apprentice scrambled to bring her a cloak, draping it over her slight form.   
  
“Thank you.” She pressed her lips to his forehead in a sick parody of affection. He meant nothing to her, but he was useful enough for the moment. Ambitious and clever and a quick study, she’d taught him a great deal. How sometimes a show of force was better than an attack, how to terrify, and how to slip a blade between someone’s ribs when they least expected it.    
  
“Always, my Master.”   
  
She knew he’d try to kill her when he thought he’d learned enough, but as long as she was still useful as a teacher he’d play the part of a devoted student. Were lies really lies when you both knew?  
  
She reached up, touching over the new scar on her chest with a fond smile. She wouldn’t have time for two students of course, if he was clever he’d run. If she was feeling generous she’d even let him.   
  
“Master?”   
  
“Set a course for Lothal.” Ezra wouldn’t be there any longer of course, not if his teacher had half a brain rattling around in his skull, but she had unfinished business to attend to. Ezra shown too brightly to hide for very long, and the light always attracted unsavory things. She had so very much to teach him, to keep him safe. He loved her enough to nearly kill her, no matter how fond he was of his Master. It was time to teach him how much she loved him.   
  



End file.
